


The Gift

by ImhereImQuire



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Degradation, M/M, Mindfuck, Stockholm Syndrome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-05
Updated: 2013-01-05
Packaged: 2017-11-23 19:26:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/625713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImhereImQuire/pseuds/ImhereImQuire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ramsay has brought a present.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Gift

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RamsayTrollton](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=RamsayTrollton).



It was bundled in brightly coloured cloth of purple and orange, gathered up tightly then tied at the top in a messy bow, and though Theon was aware of the northern custom of gift giving upon the first day of Winter it as the last thing that he expected to see when it was thrust toward him.

“What is it, my Lord?” he asked hesitantly as he scuttled upon his knees to look closer.

“Is it not obvious?” Ramsay asked and Reek’s gaunt face tensed. “You’re so slow sometimes, little Reek.”

“Is it a present?” he asked. It was a trick, he thought to himself. But then his paranoia kicked in. What if it was a gift and his reticence was interpreted as ingratitude? That, surely was a punishable offence too and he was trying so hard to be good.

“Why don’t you see for yourself…. There’s a good bitch.”

Bitch. He was about to reach for it with his hands, but then he remembered himself and he froze. Bitches did not use their hands and the near mistake horrified him. Slowly he bent his back and brought his head forward, sniffing at the bundle, turning his head this way and that before cautiously nudging it with his nose. It didn’t smell rotten,  wasn’t seeping blood, and seemed to be just what it appeared, and so, after a moment of examining it with hound like curiosity he reached to take the edge of the knot with his teeth, only recognising afterward that there was a piece of paper tied behind a cord about it.’ .. _eon’_ was all that he could make out, but he jumped back from it was though it had burst into flames.

“Its not for me, Lord Ramsay.” He said frantically, the words all but tumbling over one another.  I _know my name now. I know my name!_

Ramsay chuckled overhead. “Neither it is.” he said, with an entirely genuine sense of cheer. “No… but I have something else for you, my Reek. Something much more fitting. Come here…”

 _No,_ he thought, swallowing thickly. _I didn’t take it, I knew my name!_ He looked up, almost in tears at the expectation of the flaying knife, only to breathe a sigh of relief when it emerged that Ramsay had nought but his cock in hand, and he felt a sense of elation as he slunk toward his master, not even registering the scrape of the stone on his knees.  He’d been a good boy and Ramsay would not flay him tonight.


End file.
